by Reese Ryan
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Roxanne Ravenel
Kiss Me at Sweetwater Springs copyright © 2019 by Annie Rains
Cover design and illustration by Daniela Medina
Cover photographs © Shutterstock
Cover copyright © 2020 by Hachette Book Group, Inc.
Hachette Book Group supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
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First Edition: December 2020
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ISBNs: 978-1-5387-3445-2 (mass market); 978-1-5387-3443-8 (ebook)
E3-20200910-DA-NF-ORI
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Epilogue
Discover More
Don’t miss Return to Hummingbird Way!
About the Author
Kiss Me at Sweetwater Springs by Annie RainsChapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
About the Author
For more from Annie Rains, check out the rest of the Sweetwater Springs series!
Fall in love with these charming contemporary romances!
For Dimples and Bam Bam: Nonni loves you to pieces.
For my patient husband and family: Thank you for being so supportive and understanding through all of my deadlines and all-nighters. Love and adore you all. XOXO
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Acknowledgments
Thank you to my wise, responsive, and incredibly proactive agent, Pamela Harty of the Knight Agency. Working with you is a pleasure. Thank you for your guidance and advice, and for always being there.
Thank you to my editor, Madeleine Colavita, for seeing the vision of Holly Grove Island and for being so invested in making the series and characters come alive.
To the Grand Central Forever team, thank you for all of your support and effort to get the Holly Grove Island series out into the world, onto bookshelves, into libraries, and into the hands of readers.
Chapter One
Dakota Jones had learned three things in the past three months, during which she’d landed on the pages of Italian tabloids and Page Six, been labeled a homewrecker, and lost her job days before her promotion to weekend anchor was to be announced.
Lesson one: Run a background check on any guy who so much as says hello, let alone one who has a killer smile and a thick Italian accent that turns your knees to Jell-O.
Lesson two: Learn the native tongue of the man you’re dating. That way you’ll know whether he’s conversing with the wife you didn’t know he had.
Lesson three: Don’t blow all of your disposable income on things that are so…well, disposable.
Because now, instead of settling into her new job or making plans with friends for the long Fourth of July weekend in New York, she was crammed into a crowded, rickety old bus taking her far away from the city she’d called home for the past sixteen years.
Dakota had fallen in love with New York City when her mother had taken her to “the most amazing place in the world” for a shopping trip at the age of nine. “Couldn’t you just imagine living here one day?” her mother had mused as they stood in Times Square among the soaring buildings, bustling crowds, and glamorous people.
Mesmerized by her surroundings, Dakota could imagine it. And right there on that hot sidewalk, she’d declared that someday she would.
She’d built her entire career on the goal of becoming a lead news anchor in New York, so losing the weekend anchor gig that had brought her one step closer to that dream was devastating. Being left with no choice but to return to Holly Grove Island—the little town in the Outer Banks where she’d grown up and which she had been actively avoiding since the death of her mother five years ago—rubbed salt in the open wound that was once her career.
After eight hours and two bus changes, Dakota was finally deposited with a few of her fellow travelers at the gas station doubling as a bus stop in Elizabeth City, North Carolina, an hour away from Holly Grove Island.
Dakota rummaged in her overpriced designer crossbody bag for a tip for the driver. The bag was a gift from her now ex-boyfriend, Marcello Giovannetti. A token of his affection. She’d been thrilled when he’d given her the thoughtful but expensive gift. But now it was a bitter reminder of how gullible she’d been.
She was an investigative reporter who’d neglected to investigate the man who’d swept her off her feet. But everything about the night they’d met seemed so damn perfect. Like a fairy tale. And for once, it had been nice that there was some mystery to the relationship. That she didn’t know every detail about a man before they’d gone out.
And how’d that work out for you, genius?
Disastrously. But she’d gotten herself into this awful mess, so she would get herself out of it.
By running home to Daddy?
Dakota was really starting to hate the little voice in the back of her head. Her father had always predicted that her big-city adventure would go kaboom.
The city is a dangerous, cruel place, Kota. It’ll chew you up and spit you out.
Returning home with her tail between her legs would only prove her father right. He’d never say “I told you so,” but the words would always be hanging in the air between them.
Maybe there was a way she could go home and keep her dignity
.
On the the long, grueling bus ride, during which her left butt cheek had fallen asleep more than once, she had devised a plan. She’d tell her father she lost her job at the news station because of cutbacks. He could relate to that. The same thing had happened to him ages ago when he worked at a factory. Before he’d gone into law enforcement and eventually become the chief of police on Holly Grove Island, a job he’d retired from a few years ago. This way, maybe her father would never have to know how royally she’d screwed up.
Then there was her other concern. In a town of fewer than a thousand year-round residents, running into Dexter Roberts—her high school sweetheart—was inevitable. Dakota had fallen hard for him. She’d been so sure they were meant to be together she was blindsided when he dumped her after his first semester of college.
After all this time, it still stung.
Marcello had been the first man she’d actually envisioned a future with since Dexter.
She could hear her late mother’s voice in that sweet, Eastern North Carolina drawl that Dakota had worked so hard to rid herself of.
You sure know how to pick ’em, sweetie.
Dakota collected her luggage, then moved to the little patio outside the convenience store to wait for her ride. She’d opted for the longer bus trip to give herself more time to prepare for the return home. And for the questions she’d inevitably be asked.
Yet as she stood on the platform awaiting her ride, she felt no more prepared than she’d been when she’d stepped onto the bus early that morning.
“Dakota Jones!”
“Sinclair Buchanan.” An involuntary smile eased the tension in Dakota’s shoulders as she turned in the direction of that unmistakable twang. After the hell she’d been through the past few months, a genuine smile and a full heart felt…foreign. She dragged her oversize luggage behind her as she made her way toward her friend. “God, how long has it been?”
Sinclair was as beautiful as ever. Her tawny brown skin was flawless, and her natural, rich brown curls had been straightened and hung just past her shoulders, accented by honey-blond ombre waves. Her large hazel eyes practically glowed from within.
Sinclair embraced her so tightly she could barely breathe. “Too long, since your uppity behind decided you weren’t coming home anymore.” Sinclair finally released Dakota and met her gaze. “If I weren’t so happy to see you right now, Dakota Jones, I’d be tellin’ you about yourself.”
“Missed you, too, Sin.” Dakota grinned. “Thanks for picking me up. I know it was last minute and I had no right to ask.”
“You know I’d never pass up the chance to usher you back into town. And just in time for the big Fourth of July Festival. Always was your favorite event of the year.” Sinclair threaded her arm through Dakota’s. “C’mon. Let’s get you home. You must be exhausted.”
“And starving.”
“Got you covered on that.” Sinclair clicked her alarm, and a shiny black Lexus SUV beeped in response. “I packed a little care package for you and your dad.”
Dakota turned toward the luxury SUV and cocked her head. “Is that you?”
“Business has been good.” Sinclair grinned proudly. “Things are a lot different on the island since you were last here, Dakota. I think you’re gonna like being back home.”
“I’m not staying, Sin.” It wasn’t what her friend wanted to hear, but Dakota wouldn’t give Sin false expectations. “This is a pit stop while I contemplate my next move.”
“You sure, hon?” Sinclair struggled to lift Dakota’s bag. “’Cause I swear you got everything you own in this bag, including the kitchen sink.”
“Sorry. Let me get that. I was dazed by your flashy new ride.” Dakota helped her friend lift the bag into the back of her truck. Sin slammed the rear hatch, and they climbed inside.
“Beats the hell out of that rusted-out Gremlin I drove when we were in high school.” Sin giggled. “It’s a wonder we survived that thing. Remember that board my daddy glued down to the floor? It was the only thing keeping our feet from touching the ground.”
“It was a chariot as far as I was concerned.” Dakota clicked her seat belt. “At least you had a car.”
Sin pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the highway that would take them to Holly Grove Island. She chatted happily, catching Dakota up on the health of her family, her accidental path into real estate, and some of the changes to the island in the past five years.
They’d once been best friends—practically inseparable until Dakota had gone off to New York to follow her dreams. Within a few years, they’d fallen out of touch. Dakota had been afraid things would feel awkward between her and Sin after so many years apart. Instead, she found comfort in the familiar twang, the incessant chatter, and the irreverent humor of the woman whom she once felt she could tell anything. Even if she wasn’t ready to tell Sin everything right now.
“So, you wanna tell me why you didn’t want your father to know you were comin’?” Sin asked once they’d crossed over Fox Haven Sound and arrived on Main Street.
The question landed in her lap like a ticking time bomb. It was the reason Dakota had been tense, her belly in a knot, the entire bus ride. She didn’t like lying to her friends and family, but the truth was unbearably humiliating.
“I wanted to surprise him, that’s all.” Dakota turned away, focusing on the shops on Main Street as they flew by.
Most of the shops themselves were the same as the last time she’d been home: the bakery, the pharmacy, Myrna’s Salon, and Knitty Gritty—the local fiber shop. A used book store in the spot that was once the island’s video store. But everything looked brighter and fresher. The buildings were painted in complementary pastel colors and trimmed in crisp white. The windows sparkled, and each building was adorned with newer signs and awnings that amplified the picture-perfect small-town charm.
She could swear she’d stepped into one of her favorite Hallmark movies.
“I know we haven’t seen each other much since high school, but we’ve been best friends since we were in diapers. I know you, Dakota. So I know when something’s wrong,” Sin said after a brief silence. Dakota opened her mouth to object, but Sin waved a hand and continued. “You’re obviously not ready to share whatever it is that’s weighing on your chest like a ton of boulders. That’s fine. I get it. But if you ever do need someone to talk to, I’m here for you, Dakota. Like I’ve always been.”
Sin’s lips curved in a barely-there smile, but the light in her eyes dimmed. The sadness in her friend’s voice tightened something in Dakota’s chest. There it was—the elephant in the SUV that neither of them had wanted to address. Sin was hurt that Dakota had gone to New York and never returned. That she’d allowed their friendship to wither and die like an untended garden.
“I’ve been a terrible friend, Sinclair. And I’m sorry.” Guilt burned a hole in Dakota’s gut over Sin’s emails and text messages that had gone unanswered. Set aside to be dealt with later, only later never quite materialized. And eventually, Sin stopped sending them. “I never intended to shut you out. I just got so caught up in school and my career and—”
“And neither me nor this Podunk little town fit into your glamorous new life.” Sin grimaced, waving a hand before Dakota could launch into an explanation. “Honestly? If I’d had the opportunity, I probably would’ve left, too.”
“No, you wouldn’t have,” Dakota said warmly. “You love this place far too much to leave it. You always have and you always will.”
A genuine smile spread across Sin’s face. “Okay, so maybe you do still know me a little. I do love this place, and I’m gonna do everything in my power to help you realize how much you love it, too.” Sin glanced over at Dakota, before returning her gaze to the road. “And as far as I’m concerned, nothing’s changed between us. You Joneses are a proud, stubborn bunch, so I thought I’d get that out there, right off.”
Dakota’s heart squeezed. She was grateful for Sinclair’s undying friendship—l
oyalty she didn’t deserve. Sin was right; Dakota had chosen life in the glittering city over her best friend—a choice that had gnawed at her since her last trip home. “When I’m ready to talk, I promise to call you, Sin.”
“That’s good enough for me.” Sin beamed.
Dakota looked into the back seat. “Oh my God, what’s in that picnic basket? It smells incredible.”
Sin’s laugh made it clear that Dakota’s attempt to change the subject wasn’t lost on her. “A good old-fashioned Southern feast. Fried pork chops, fried okra, fried corn, macaroni and cheese, cornbread, and blackberry cobbler.”
“Even the aroma is decadent. I can feel my thighs expanding.” Dakota considered swiping a piece of cornbread from the wicker basket, but when she glanced up, Sin had turned onto Passionflower Avenue, then onto Cypress Lane, and there it was.
Home.
The sprawling, pale-pink, four-bedroom Victorian with white trim was way too big for her father. But Oliver Jones wouldn’t hear of selling the place. It was where he’d raised his family, and the place held too many memories.
Those memories, many of them painful, were the reason he needed to let the house go. Her father had always taken so much pride in caring for their home. But now the clapboard was overdue for a good paint job, the lawn looked neglected, and the flower bed was overgrown with weeds. The only thing that was exactly as it should be was her mother’s prized rosebush.
Dakota’s heart beat harder and faster, the sound of it filling her ears. Why was she so nervous? She was going to spend time with her father, whom she adored.
Sin pulled into the driveway and honked the horn twice. They both giggled, the way they had when they were schoolgirls. Her father had always hated it when her friends blew the horn rather than coming to the front door.
“You ready for this?” Sin turned off the engine and squeezed Dakota’s hand.
Dakota ignored the swirling butterflies in her belly. “I’m ready.”
They climbed out and unloaded Dakota’s luggage. Suddenly, the old wooden screen door slammed.